


long weeks

by artenon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 08:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2262789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long-distance relationships are hard. Some weeks are harder than others. But, together, they get through them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	long weeks

**Author's Note:**

> I DEDICATE THIS FIC TO [CAIRAH](http://aarlert.tumblr.com/) BECAUSE IT CONTAINS APPROXIMATELY 5000 OF OUR SHARED HEADCANONS
> 
> i have nothing else to say except that this is 5600 words of unapologetic self-indulgent fluff and also that the song 'first day of my life' by bright eyes has ruined me bye.

**Monday.**

Tsukishima looks at the time on his laptop. It’s 6:28 PM, the same as the last three times he’s checked. As he stares, the time changes to 6:29. He still has to wait at least another sixty seconds.

He has a quiz tomorrow that he’s supposed to be studying for, but he hasn’t been able to focus on that for the past fifteen minutes, at least. He’s just been half-listening to the music coming from his headphones and checking the time every few moments. Mostly he’s been wondering what he’ll talk about today.

It’s 6:30 PM. Tsukishima slides his cell phone over so it’s in front of him, and he turns it on, swiping absently between the screens. Approximately half a minute later, his phone rings.

Tsukishima answers and puts his phone on speaker, sliding his headphones from his ears.

“Hey.”

He’s greeted by a yawn and muffled “hi.”

“How was your lab?”

“Boring,” Kuroo says. “How was your day?”

“Boring,” Tsukishima answers. “Are you walking back to your dorm?”

“Yep.” Another yawn. “Is it too much to hope that Bokuto is already asleep?”

“At 6:30?” Tsukishima asks. “Yes.”

Kuroo groans. “I just want to take a nap without anyone bothering me or dragging me out to play volleyball for maybe two hours.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night.”

“Well, if you didn’t want to talk to me last night, you could have said so sooner and let me sleep.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m just teasing.” Kuroo’s voice is drowsy and warm, and it calms Tsukishima down. “Tell me how volleyball is going.”

Tsukishima doesn’t particularly want to talk. He’d rather just sit back and listen to the smooth cadence of Kuroo’s voice. But because Kuroo requested it, he talks anyway, of Kageyama and Hinata’s continued inability to explain how to do anything in plain language, forcing him to once again step up to do the job; of how the first years are getting better; of how he’s showing them the blocking techniques Kuroo once taught him. He tells him about the practice match they have scheduled with Nekoma the next week.

“Tell me how they’re all doing,” Kuroo says, and Tsukishima gives a soft hum of assent. “How’s co-captaincy treating you, by the way?”

“Fine.” Tsukishima shrugs, even though Kuroo can’t see it. “It’s not really a big deal.”

“Of course it is; I pretty much made you the volleyball player you are today.”

“That is patently untrue.”

Kuroo laughs, a light sound.

“You’re quieter today,” Tsukishima observes.

“Am I?” Kuroo asks. “I’m really worn out. And just kind of—well, you know when you can just feel like it’s gonna be a long week?”

“Not really.”

“Ouch. No sympathy.”

“I’m sorry,” Tsukishima says, sarcastic. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Just talking to you always makes me feel better,” Kuroo says, earnest, and Tsukishima has to turn away from the phone, as if Kuroo can see his blush through it.

“Go back to your dorm and get some sleep,” Tsukishima says. “You get sappy when you’re sleepy.”

“ _That_ ,” Kuroo says, “is patently untrue. I’m always sappy, and I love you.”

Tsukishima has to take a deep breath to compose himself before he replies. “You’re ridiculous.”

“For loving you? Probably. But that’s not going to stop me.”

“Honestly, you’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told. Anyway, I am arriving at my dorm now, hold on…”

Tsukishima leans back and stares at the ceiling while he waits.

“Aaand Bokuto is not home! Praise whoever is responsible.”

“Are you going to go sleep?” Tsukishima asks.

“Damn right I am. I’ll talk to you tonight or tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima says, then, rushed, “Love you.”

“Love you,” Kuroo says, voice sweet and heavy with sleepiness. He hangs up.

Tsukishima stares at nothing for a while, replaying the conversation in his head, not particularly for the content—their conversation was mundane, typical—but to recall the rise and fall of Kuroo’s voice, his sleepy affection. He can almost wrap himself up in the warmth, like a blanket.

It’s another fifteen minutes before he can focus on studying again.

 

**Tuesday. (Wednesday)**

Late Tuesday night, Tsukishima’s phone rings. Squinting at the digital clock on his bedside table, he can see that it’s one in the morning. So technically it’s Wednesday now, but Tsukishima just woke up and he can’t be assed to determine what day he considers it to be. Instead he just reaches for his phone, answers the call, and says in a justifiably rude tone, “What.”

“Sorry,” Kuroo says. “I might’ve fucked up.”

Tsukishima sits up in his bed, alert. Kuroo’s words are slurring, and he’s speaking more slowly than usual.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “And are you drunk?”

“Physically okay. Mostly not drunk anymore. And sorry,” Kuroo says again, and Tsukishima starts to actually worry.

“What happened?”

For a few moments, the only thing he hears is Kuroo breathing into the phone. The sound is unusually harsh, grating.

“I almost made out with someone,” Kuroo says, sounding more articulate than before.

It feels like a punch to the gut, and Tsukishima grips the phone tighter in his hand. “What?”

“I was at a party, got kind of spectacularly drunk, and this guy was getting handsy, and. Well.”

“You,” Tsukishima starts. One hand is still clenched around his phone, so tight that his knuckles must be white. The other is tugging at his comforter, and he wishes that it was paper or something he could rip up. The agitation is building in his chest, rising to his throat so that he can’t speak.

He has to force himself to stop imagining Kuroo and a faceless man touching each other, kissing, pulling clothes off—

“I swear, I’m sorry,” Kuroo says. “How can I make it up to you?”

“You can stop apologizing, for starters,” Tsukishima says. Kuroo only apologizes when he really means it, but he’s never heard him apologize more than once, nor sound so genuinely torn up over what he’s done. It actually mollifies Tsukishima, and he’s able to compose himself and think through the situation. “You _almost_ made out with him?”

“Well, yeah. I pushed him away and came home,” Kuroo says. His voice is tinged with nervousness. He’s waiting for Tsukishima to get mad at him, he realizes. But he’s not mad. He’s not even disappointed.

“It’s okay,” he says.

“You forgive me?” Kuroo asks.

“You didn’t do anything.” Maybe Tsukishima might have minded before, but they’ve been dating for over two years now and he can tell. Kuroo sounds like he hates himself right now, and that’s the last thing Tsukishima wants. He has no doubt that Kuroo went right back to his dorm and called him immediately after it happened. “You’re not trying to make excuses or anything. There’s nothing to forgive.” He hesitates. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Kuroo says, and he sounds calmer now. “I love you.”

“Me, too,” Tsukishima whispers, lying back down on the bed.

“I’m swearing off drinking,” Kuroo says. “Well—maybe not drinking, but definitely partying. Also, I’m going to regret this hangover tomorrow.”

“Why did you go to a party on a Tuesday?” Tsukishima asks. He shifts a little on his bed, getting comfortable. The tension from earlier slips away. “Why was there a party on a Tuesday in the first place?”

“Please, there are always parties, if you know where to look. And—I mean, yesterday wasn’t so great and today was—well, and then I decided to make bad choices to make my prediction that this week would suck a self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess.”

Tsukishima decides not to call him out on how blatantly vague he’s being. “You’re so stupid,” he says without any real bite.

“I know. I have to thank you for putting up with me.”

“You should drink some water and go to sleep,” Tsukishima says. “When do you have class tomorrow?”

Kuroo groans. “Like 10 A.M.?”

“Definitely sleep.”

“Let’s stay up a little later,” Kuroo urges. “I want to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

Kuroo asks about school and volleyball, even though texted throughout the day. Although Tsukishima did notice that Kuroo didn’t text him as much today as he usually might. Tsukishima not texting often would not be so worrisome; Kuroo not texting is.

Tsukishima wants to ask what’s wrong, but he’s never been good at comforting. He’s good at listening, but he never knows what to say in reply.

It’s past two when Kuroo finally says, “I should really sleep now. Thanks for staying up with me.”

The past half hour on the phone has been less conversation and more just breathing into their phones. Tsukishima wants to say something more, but in the end all he says is, “Okay. Good night.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Kuroo doesn’t hang up immediately, and Tsukishima listens to him breathe, quiet, a soothing contrast to how it was before, for about half a minute before a click signifies the end of the call.

It’s nearly 2:30 in the morning and Tsukishima has to get ready for school in a few hours, but he stays up.

It’s nearly 3 A.M. when Tsukishima sends an email to Kuroo, but it’s only after that that he’s able to sleep in peace.

 

**Wednesday.**

About halfway through the school day, Tsukishima receives a series of texts from Kuroo.

_I love you so much_

_Just got out of class and saw your email_

_How do you always know?_

_< 33_

Tsukishima smiles, pleased with himself. He’s impatient to get out of class now, wanting to call Kuroo, even though he knows he’s going to have to wait not only until after school, but also volleyball practice before he can call him.

 **do you feel better?** he texts back.

_I love you a lot <3 <3 <3_

**i love you, too.**

_When can you call me?_

**i can talk for a few minutes after school.**

_< 333_

Kuroo texts with an amount of hearts that should be illegal, but Tsukishima is glad enough that Kuroo is apparently back to his normal self that he forgives it this time.

He slides his phone back into his pocket so he can focus on his work, although his eyes stray to the clock more times than he would ever admit. He’s never particularly liked or disliked school, but today it can’t end fast enough, even though he and Kuroo text back and forth a few more times throughout the rest of the day.

Tsukishima deliberately lingers in class until everyone else is gone, and he calls Kuroo as he leaves the room.

“It’s my favorite person!” Kuroo says by way of greeting.

“Hi,” Tsukishima says, instead of reacting. He’s walking as slowly as he can to the gym, as well as shortening his strides because being tall means a slow walk for him is actually not that slow to the average person.

“How do you always send the perfect music?” Kuroo asks.

Tsukishima considers the question. It’s very obvious when Kuroo is feeling off, even if he pretends nothing’s wrong. But now that he thinks about it, Tsukishima isn’t really sure how he distinguishes whether to send Kuroo calming, quiet music to soothe him or loud music he can sing along to until he’s emotionally spent.

“I just know,” he says with a little shrug. This time Kuroo needs quiet music. Tsukishima will send him a mix of quiet songs. That’s all there is to it.

“Well, you made my day,” Kuroo says. “And made up for the past two days.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tsukishima asks it hesitantly. He’s awful at offering advice, but maybe just venting will be enough for Kuroo.

“It wasn’t even anything,” Kuroo dismisses. “Just too many little things at once piling up into one big shitty thing. But it doesn’t even matter anymore. Do you want to know why?”

Tsukishima can guess what sort of line is coming up next, but he humors Kuroo anyway. “Why?”

“Because I have you. I love you.”

Tsukishima groans. “Why do you have to be embarrassing?”

“You love it,” Kuroo says.

God help him, he does.

They make small talk as Tsukishima walks the rest of the way to the gym. Well—it’s mostly Kuroo talking. He sounds much more cheerful than he has for the past couple days, and things feel back to normal. It puts Tsukishima at ease.

“Okay, I have to go now,” Tsukishima says as he pushes the door open.

He realizes belatedly that not hanging up on Kuroo before entering the gym was a mistake, because as soon as the door opens, a barrage of first-years greets him.

“Tsukishima-senpai, you’re late!”

“Can you check my form, please, Tsukishima-senpai?”

“Tsukishima-senpai, Kageyama-senpai and Hinata-senpai are explaining things weird again!”

Through the phone, Kuroo laughs. “A captain of my own making,” he says.

“Co-captain,” Tsukishima corrects.

“It’s not weird!” Kageyama shouts. “You just go _zip_ and then _pow_! Hinata can do it!”

“Oooh, Tsukishima-senpai, teach me how to block!” Hinata calls from across the gym.

“You’re not funny!” Tsukishima calls back, covering the mouthpiece of his cell phone even though he knows Kuroo will still be able to hear him. Uncovering the mouthpiece, he adds to Kuroo, “I’ll call you tonight.”

“Alright.” Kuroo sounds amused, and Tsukishima tries (and fails) not to feel embarrassed. “Don’t be mean to your first years.”

“I’m never mean,” Tsukishima says primly, and catches a second of Kuroo’s disbelieving laugh before he hangs up.

Tsukishima sighs as he looks at the enthusiastic first years waiting for him to join them on the court. They love him, though he’s not sure why. But he’s fond of them, he has to admit.

“Hurry up and get changed!” Kageyama demands.

Kageyama he is less fond of. That’s a lie—they get on fine. They have to, to be co-captains, but more than that, they’re friends now. And he’d only admit it under the threat of his life, but he kind of loves them all—Yamaguchi, Kageyama, Hinata, Yachi.

Kuroo says he’s gone soft. Tsukishima supposes he doesn’t mind. Tonight they’ll talk again, and Tsukishima will tell him about how his team is improving, always improving and giving their all. He values this now—this giving 120% instead of just going for a passing grade, and it makes him proud to see his teammates working so hard.

After practice, he and the other third years go out for ice cream together. As they sit together, quietly eating, Hinata pipes up, voice adopting that intense, calm quality that it gets sometimes, “We’re going to nationals.”

Kageyama looks at him in silence for a long moment before saying, “Yeah, we are.”

Tsukishima doesn’t say anything, but he believes it with all his heart.

When he tells Kuroo about it that night, Kuroo just says, “Of course you’re going to make it. And while you stand there on that court, I’m going to be in the stands to cheer you on.”

 

 **Thursday.**  

“I like Thursdays,” Kuroo says. “I only have two classes.”

Tsukishima frowns at the slightly-grainy Skype video. “You still have to do your homework for tomorrow.”

“Shhh. Don’t ruin this for me.” Kuroo is sitting on his bed, and he leans back against his pillows. “I just want to relax and not think about reading and problem sets. Do you think you could let me do that?”

“Sure, but I’m doing my homework,” Tsukishima says.

“Tsukkiii, pay attention to meee,” Kuroo whines obnoxiously, and Tsukishima snorts.

“Not going to dignify that with a response,” he says, well aware that he is contradicting himself.

He doesn’t need to see it to know that Kuroo is pouting at him. He probably looks ridiculous, but Tsukishima resists the urge to face him until Kuroo speaks up a minute later.

“I’ll just hug my body pillow, then,” he says. “Remember this? I pretend it’s you. It’s my Tsukki-pillow.”

Now Tsukishima has to look at him so he can make a face. “That’s weird.”

“It’s softer than you are,” Kuroo says, hugging it to his chest. “But you’re warmer. I like you better.”

“Shut up,” Tsukishima mutters. He’s embarrassed, but Kuroo is also making him recall the nights they’ve slept curled up together, all the times they’ve cuddled. Tsukishima would always groan and act reluctant, but he cherished those moments. They don’t get a lot of them, having been in a long-distance relationship from the start, after all.

It’s a mixed blessing. On one hand, they’ve always had to deal with having a physical distance between them. They’re used to it, and it made Kuroo going away to college that much easier. On the other hand—and Tsukishima isn’t even that big on physical affection in the first place—some days, like today, Tsukishima yearns to touch Kuroo so much it _aches_.

It’s not sexual—mostly not, anyway. He just wants to hold Kuroo for a while. He wants to kiss his cheek, breathe in his scent, run his fingers through his awful perpetual-bedhead mess of hair. Sometimes Tsukishima just wants to hold Kuroo’s goddamn hand so bad, but Kuroo is miles away.

He feels very bereft right now.

“What’s wrong?” Kuroo asks.

Tsukisima looks at him. _The next holiday is ages away._ “Nothing.”

“You weren’t talking.”

“That happens a lot.”

“I know,” Kuroo says. “This was a something-on-your-mind kind of quiet, though.”

“Homework,” Tsukishima says, an excuse, an evasion, however Kuroo chooses to take it.

Kuroo hums a little but doesn’t say anything, so Tsukishima looks back to his homework, since he does still have to get it done. He works for about ten straight minutes before he remembers that he’s still in the call with Kuroo.

It’s not that he forgot, really—Kuroo is a comfortable background presence, and Tsukishima likes knowing he’s there even if they’re not talking. But he does forget that he should actually acknowledge Kuroo sometimes.

It’s usually Kuroo who reminds him by talking, but this time Tsukishima is the one to break the silence, saying, “Now you’re the one being quiet.”

“I like to watch you,” Kuroo says.

“Okay, creep,” Tsukishima says flatly to cover up how Kuroo can still make him flustered with such simple statements even after they’ve been dating for all this time.

There’s a banging sound, and they both jolt.

“Hey, hey, Kuroo!” comes Bokuto’s voice through Tsukishima’s speakers. “You didn’t answer my text! Volleyball!”

“You have a one-track mind,” Kuroo replies.

“Are you talking to Tsukki?” Bokuto shoves Kuroo out of the way, replacing him in the video frame. “Hey, Tsukki! How are you?”

“Don’t call me that,” Tsukishima says. “And I’m okay.”

“How’s Karasuno doing? I hear you’re captain—”

“Co-captain—”

“Get away, I want to talk to my boyfriend—”

Kuroo reappears in half the frame, trying to push Bokuto away.

“Don’t be greedy!” Bokuto complains.

Kuroo and Bokuto end up wrestling on the bed in front of the laptop. Tsukishima watches, partly amused, partly exasperated, and partly concerned that one of them is going to kick the laptop off the bed.

“Guys,” he says when neither of them show signs of stopping. And then, louder, “ _Guys_.”

They stop.

“I have to do homework. Bokuto, didn’t you come here yelling something about volleyball?”

Kuroo doesn’t have time to play volleyball competitively anymore, too busy working to complete his astrophysics major, but he still plays for fun whenever he has time—or, more accurately, whenever Bokuto drags him away from his work to play, which is often.

“Oh, yeah!” Bokuto says. “C’mon, Kuroo, let’s go!”

He tugs on Kuroo’s arm, but Kuroo resists and turns to Tsukishima. “I’ll call or text depending on how dead I am after the combined forces of volleyball and homework.”

“You could have saved yourself a little if you had worked on your homework now instead of procrastinating.”

“You know, I don’t need your lecturing on top of everything right now. How about you try for some sympathy?”

“Come _on_ , Kuroo! You talk to Tsukki literally all the time. Hurry up already!”

Bokuto slings his arm around Kuroo’s back, and Kuroo lets out a little _oof_ noise as he dips down a little under the weight.

“You’ll let me steal Kuroo for a little while, won’t ya?” Bokuto asks Tsukishima.

“Yes, that’s what I implied when I said I had homework,” Tsukishima says, though he actually feels a little bothered.

He’s not jealous of Bokuto, really. He knows Bokuto and Kuroo are close friends, but he doesn’t doubt Kuroo’s commitment to him, not anymore. But he is jealous of how Bokuto can touch Kuroo as much as he wants, and so unthinkingly. He probably doesn’t even notice what he’s doing, draping his arm across Kuroo’s shoulders like that. He doesn’t realize how lucky he is to be able to just casually slide his hand down to grab Kuroo’s arm so he can drag him off the bed.

“So, yeah, we’ll talk to you later, Tsukki!” Bokuto says, his grinning face appearing in the camera one more time.

“ _I’ll_ talk to you later,” Kuroo says, yanking Bokuto back. “Bye, Kei.”

Tsukishima waves as Kuroo finally ends the call. As soon as it ends, the smile drops from his face, and he sighs.

He really needs to hug something right now. Ideally, Kuroo, but he can’t and so, like Kuroo, he has to settle for a pillow that is indeed softer and squishier, but nowhere near as warm or satisfying. And even though tonight shouldn’t be any different from usual, Tsukishima knows it will feel lonelier.

 

**Friday.**

When Tsukishima checks his phone in the morning, the first thing he sees is a text from Kuroo: _Check your email <3_

He and Kuroo weren’t able to speak again yesterday, save for a few texts, and this message is from past midnight, after Tsukishima already went to bed. He can guess what’s waiting for him on his email, though, and he groans.

“What will it be this time?” he asks no one even as he goes to the mail app on his phone.

 

To: Tsukishima Kei <tsukishima.kei@gmail.com>

From: Kuroo Tetsurou <kurootetsurou@gmail.com>

Subject: Songs that make me think of you <3

Songs that make me think of you <3

Attachment: howmanymixesisthisnow.zip

 

“Oh, god,” he mutters. It’s an entire mix this time. Usually Kuroo will just send him a single song with a message like ‘this song reminded me of you,’ but sometimes—like this time—he’ll send a mix.

There are six songs in the mix, and Tsukishima starts playing it from his phone as he changes and gets ready for his day. He has to keep pausing what he’s doing, though, so he can just stand there are bury his face in his hands, because the songs are just so _sappy_. It’s always like this whenever Kuroo sends him music, but he still can’t handle it. He really can’t.

He definitely doesn’t listen to the mix again on the way to school. He doesn’t hum the songs as he walks between classes.

 _Do you like it?_ Kuroo texts him during lunch.

**you’re so embarrassing.**

_So you like it_

**YOU’RE EMBARRASSING.**

He also definitely doesn’t listen to it again on the way home that night.

“So you like it,” Kuroo says instead of greeting him when they Skype. He’s hugging his ‘Tsukki-pillow’ again.

“You’re embarrassing,” Tsukishima insists, but this time Kuroo can see his blush.

“You’re so cute when you blush.”

Tsukishima covers his face in his hands and his glasses slide up to his forehead. “Shut. Up,” he mumbles through his fingers.

“You’re precious,” Kuroo says.

“I’m hanging up now.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Kuroo says, confident. “Not on a Friday, when I can stay up doing nothing instead of homework.”

Tsukishima removes his hands from his face, scowling as he adjusts his glasses. “I don’t have to put up with this.”

“You really don’t,” Kuroo agrees. “But you will anyway.”

Tsukishima hangs up. Kuroo calls him again almost immediately after, and Tsukishima clicks the button to accept.

“That was rude,” Kuroo says.

“I was proving a point.”

“But you answered when I called you again, so I would say the only point you proved was mine.”

“Ugh.” Tsukishima rests his arms on his desk so he can pillow his head on them. “I’m too tired for this.”

“Now you’re making excuses.”

Tsukishima’s eyes flick away from the computer screen. As long as Kuroo just thinks he’s making excuses to get out of admitting that Kuroo is right.

“Is something wrong?”

But, of course he noticed that wasn’t it. This is Kuroo, after all.

Tsukishima wonders if he can get away with saying nothing’s wrong, or dismissing it with a joke or sarcasm. In the end, he mumbles into his sleeve, “I really miss you.”

Kuroo sighs. “Me, too. This week has felt really long, hasn’t it?”

Tsukishima wants to say that any week without Kuroo feels too long, but that’s both far too cheesy and far too honest for him. Only Kuroo can say such starkly sappy and sincere lines without sounding ridiculous (no matter how much Tsukishima claims he does).

Instead he just mutters, “Yeah.”

Did Kuroo really call him, distressed and still half-drunk just this Tuesday? It feels like weeks ago.

Kuroo hums. “Hey, do you have any plans this weekend?”

“Not really,” Tsukishima says.

He and the others might go somewhere together, but he can always cancel. If Kuroo’s not doing anything, they can Skype for a lot longer than usual, maybe stream a movie together. That’d be nice.

“How about I visit you this weekend?” Kuroo asks.

Tsukishima quells his instinctive reaction of _yes_. He sits up straight. “Isn’t it a long drive? It’s not even a long weekend, so you’ll have to leave on Sunday.”

“It’ll be worth it,” Kuroo says.

“Well…if you really want to,” Tsukishima says with a shrug.

“You can’t fool me, I know you really want to see me.”

“Maybe,” Tsukishima concedes. Even if it’s just two half-days, it’s better than nothing.

“Then it’s settled!” Kuroo smiles. “I can’t wait to see you.”

Tsukishima permits a smile in return, just a little one. “Me, too.”

“I guess I should go to bed early so I can leave tomorrow morning,” Kuroo says.

It makes sense, but Tsukishima can’t help but feel a little disappointed. The night is still young, and he’ll probably be up for a while yet. It’ll be lonely without Kuroo.

“I’ll stay up for a little more,” Kuroo decides.

Kuroo stays up for a little more than a little more, and even though they don’t talk about anything substantial, they end the call with reluctance. After Kuroo leaves, even though it’s still relatively early for a Friday, Tsukishima doesn’t feel like staying up any longer, so he goes to bed, too.

He definitely doesn’t listen to the mix Kuroo sent him one more time before he does.

 

**Saturday.**

Saturday, Tsukishima wonders what he’s going to do all morning.

First he works on tidying up the living room, not because it’s particularly messy—he’s a clean person, in general—but just so he’ll have something to do, to keep him busy. He stops, though, when he catches himself humming one of the songs from Kuroo’s mix.

 _How pathetic are you?_ He scolds himself. He is the epitome of uncool right now. He might as well seat himself by the window and stare outside, waiting for Kuroo to arrive.

“Pathetic,” he mutters, as if saying it out loud will reinforce it to himself. He’s going to do homework in his room and not look at the clock or wait for Kuroo.

He tries to listen to his regular music, but only a few songs later he switches to Kuroo’s mix. The songs are stuck in his head; he can’t help that.

Halfway through _(They Long to Be) Close to You_ , someone knocks on the front door. Tsukishima sighs and he sets his pen down, annoyed at being interrupted, and gets up. He rubs his neck, which is sore from craning over his work, as he walks to the door.

He doesn’t know whom to expect and he doesn’t wonder, so he’s completely thrown when he opens the door to find Kuroo, still dressed in his pajamas, standing across the threshold.

Tsukishima stares blankly at him. “You’re not supposed to be here for hours.”

“I couldn’t wait,” Kuroo says. He grins sheepishly. “Surprise?”

“Did you even get any sleep last night?” Tsukishima asks.

Kuroo takes his arm and tugs him in close. “Kiss now,” he says. “Questions later.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes but assents, bracing one hand on the doorframe and bridging the rest of the gap between him and Kuroo. Kuroo smiles against his mouth and his hands move to wind around Tsukishima’s waist.

“Missed you,” Kuroo whispers when they part, and he tilts his head so he can rub his nose against Tsukishima’s.

Tsukishima closes his eyes. “Me, too.”

Kuroo drops his head to rest it on Tsukishima’s shoulder. “To answer your question, I got some sleep. Not a lot, but definitely some.”

“You didn’t think this through,” Tsukishima says, shaking his head.

“Sure I did. See you in the afternoon, or see you in the morning? It was an easy choice.” Kuroo’s arms tighten around him.

“Are you going to come in or not?” Tsukishima asks after a moment.

“Yeah. I just wanted to hug you for a while.”

Tsukishima can’t really respond to that in any way but by wrapping his arms tight around Kuroo. Kuroo’s face is still pressed to his shoulder, so Tsukishima rests his cheek against his hair. It smells like strawberry shampoo.

A few seconds or minutes pass, and then Kuroo says, “Okay, I’m falling asleep on you here. Can I come in now?”

Tsukshima snorts. “Told you you didn’t think this through.”

But he leads Kuroo inside and to his bedroom. Tsukishima remembers that he left his music playing only when he hears the lyrics of _First Day of My Life_ , and when he does, he blushes up to his ears and hurries to the computer to stop the music.

Kuroo catches him by the arm. “No, let it keep playing.”

Tsukishima turns to him, and sees that Kuroo is smiling, not teasing, but honestly happy that Tsukishima is playing his mix.

“Go to sleep,” Tsukishima says, trying vainly to cover his embarrassment.

Obligingly, Kuroo gets under the covers and holds them up with one arm. “Come cuddle with me.”

“I’m not tired,” Tsukishima says. “Since I got enough sleep last night.”

Kuroo drops his arm. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected a warmer welcome.”

Trying not to feel guilty, Tsukishima sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“That’s better,” Kuroo says, snuggling under the covers.

Tsukishima reaches out to run his fingers through Kuroo’s hair, and Kuroo leans into his touch, eyes slipping shut. Tsukishima strokes his hair until he falls asleep.

 

Tsukishima is on his computer when Kuroo wakes up a few hours later and says, voice thick with sleep, “Hey, Kei.”

He turns to see Kuroo watching him, a soft smile on his face that compels Tsukishima to walk over and lean down to kiss him.

Kuroo grabs the collar of Tsukishima’s shirt and tugs, coaxing him onto the bed so that he’ll lie down beside him.

“I love you,” Kuroo says between soft kisses.

“Me, too,” Tsukishima says. “I love you, too.” And then, because he feels self-conscious, he hurries to change the subject. “What do you want to do today?”

Kuroo kisses his nose. “Anything. Doesn’t matter.” He takes Tsukishima’s hand in his own, presses his cheek against his palm. “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s not go anywhere,” Tsukishima says.

He’s been missing Kuroo all this time, but now that they’re together, he realizes that there isn’t anything he really wants to do. He just wants to appreciate Kuroo’s physical closeness.

Kuroo makes a sleepy noise of assent. “Good plan. Let’s order pizza and watch a movie.”

Tsukishima likes the sound of that, and so that’s what they do.

 

**Sunday.**

When Tsukishima wakes up, he tries to roll over. This fails because his arm is trapped under a warm, heavy weight that turns out to be Kuroo.

Kuroo stirs, disturbed by the movement of Tsukishima trying to tug his arm free. He blinks, drowsy. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Tsukishima says. “My arm is numb.”

Kuroo shifts his body so Tsukishima can tuck his arm in, and then he turns onto his side and slings an arm across Tsukishima’s chest. “You know how I know this week won’t suck?” he asks.

“Why?” Tsukishima asks. His arm is tingling as it regains feeling, and he feels gross and sweaty after sleeping tangled with Kuroo under the thick blanket. Kuroo’s arm is heavy on top of him.

“’Cause I get to start it with you.”

“You’re so sappy,” Tsukishima groans.

“I don’t think you mind,” Kuroo says.

“What do you want to do today?”

“Anything. Doesn’t matter.”

“That’s exactly what you said yesterday.”

“I’m happy doing anything with you.”

“Sappy,” Tsukishima repeats.

“But you love it.”

“I love you,” Tsukishima says.

Kuroo kisses him. “I love you, too.”

They’ll be alright.

 

**Another Monday.**

_Can’t Skype tonight, but you should listen to this song. I heard it and it reminded me of you <3_

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, but he listens to the ridiculous, sappy song maybe five times before he can bring himself to play something else.


End file.
